Bonjour. It’s Glen Lentil, three-time winner of the Carl’s Jr. and Hardee Award in Food Excellence (CHAFE) back again to teach you how to make pancakes. And not just any pancakes. These golden-crusted beauties are sure to impress any overnight guest in the morning, or the celebrity whose table you crash at the local Marriott.
What I love about this dish is that these little guys, fresh out of the pan, won’t just nourish you and your spirit—they’ll keep you company. A crucial step of this dish is to arrange the blueberries into little faces, to let their natural personalities shine. Some pancakes will come out smiley, some sultry, some even a little sassy, but ALL of them are your friends, and don’t you EVER, forget that.
- Baking soda
Once you have your individual bowls mixed, combine them together. This whisking can be a little hard on the arms, but make sure not to tense up. These ingredients love you. Water, eggs, flour, butter, they are your parents. Feel them wrap their arms around you. Hear them say “I love you,” “I’m proud of you,” “The CHAFE is an impressive award.”
Heat up your pan or griddle, but not too hot. This is an act of love, not one of hatred. The pancakes should sigh blissfully when you ladle them onto the pan. It should be an “Ahhh” not an “AAAH!” if that makes sense. Once you’ve placed it into the pan, lovingly, make sure to keep a gentle eye on your batter. Your little pals are coming to life, and you wouldn’t want to miss their birthing process. You want to be there for them in their big childhood moments, because otherwise—well, we don’t want to think about that.
In three minutes, when your pancakes begin to form bubbles and smell like home, turn them over gently, as you would to pet a cat’s stomach.
Once they’re shining golden, you’re golden. Take them off and put them on a rack to cool for a minute. And then… and then. And then. I can’t do it. I just can’t do it. God, this always happens to me. I cannot eat them. They would be delicious, yes, but I love them too much. You, reader, are obviously welcome to them. Just don’t tell me what you did and don’t look them in the eyes.
The great thing about these pancakes is that they keep well in the freezer. Don’t get me wrong, they’re not good frozen, but sometimes it’s nice to pop open that freezer door and see a smiling, blueberry face, a face that says, “You’ve accomplished a lot professionally, Glen.” Sometimes you can even arrange them around your dining room table for those nights when your wife is visiting her sister so she can “get some air.” Hell, bring a few to bed with you and cuddle them at night. Their versatility is what makes this such a caring, affable dish.
Sometimes I even bring some in a Tupperware to my local playground and hand them to kids who are playing alone. Every child’s face lights up with joy when they see those big blueberry eyes staring back at them. That smiling mouth, gushing berry juice all over the place. I tell them, “To play with, not to eat.” They nod. The pancakes smile. We all smile. We are happy.
Sorry. Anyway. See you next week, readers.